


So In Love

by siDEADde



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, Rizzles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siDEADde/pseuds/siDEADde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their orbit is off, that constant circling that they do when they're together. Maura feels like she is on a collision course with something large and inevitable and she hasn't the skills to adjust her trajectory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **So, I know I'm a bit of a one-trick pony as far as my Rizzles fic: it's all pretty much fluffy first-i-love-you stories and this isn't really different. I'm pretty much captivated by the thought of that ah-hah moment so I'm always imagining it in all these different ways. Hopefully you all will enjoy it.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **This story will be 2 parts and was inspired by k.d. lang's version of Cole Porter's "So In Love." The song is beautiful and the lyrics scream Rizzles. If you'd like to hear it, it can be found on Youtube or you can follow the link on my Tumblr.**

Sunday dinner.

Carbs, chianti, and cannoli.

It's the closest thing that Maura can call a family tradition after four years of being best friends with Jane Rizzoli and consequential assimilation into the detective's boisterous Southie family. For the past two years, Sunday dinner was hosted at her Beacon Hill home since the Rizzoli matriarch had taken up residence in the doctor's guest house. The custom had to be as much Maura's now as it was the rest of theirs, right?

"Family tradition," Maura murmurs quietly to herself as she stacks sauce covered plates into the dishwasher. She can't stop the small smile or the flush that pinks her cheeks at the ability to put both of those words together and get to include herself. Just the words "include herself" are enough to cause stomach-clenching giddiness. She pauses to pull in a deep calming breath, then continues to load the rest of the dinner dishes into the machine.

"Where's the remote for the stereo, Maura?"

Jane's voice cuts through the dull hum of conversation and Sports Center on the gigantic television. The entire clan has turned out for dinner today; Frost and Korsak included. A rare day indeed to have all three from homicide plus Frankie off work, so Angela has taken full advantage and made four courses _and_ homemade dessert. Maura tosses a detergent packet into the washer, clicks it on, then pads out to the living room, wine in hand.

"It's on top of the stereo." She points it out to the detective as she sips a bit of the Chianti and settles herself on the arm of the couch next to Frankie. He makes to move over but Maura shakes her head slightly and sets her hand against his shoulder. "Do we need the television on as well?"

"Why?" Jane responds, her back to the gathering, as she pokes around the expensive sound system trying to find where to plug in the auxiliary jack for her iPod. "The current cacophony isn't pleasing to your ears, Doctor?" She peeks back over her shoulder, grin belying her serious tone. Korsak and her partner stifle twin chuckles over the anticipated sparring.

"Actually, no. It's not at all pleasant." The blond arches an eyebrow as Frankie shakes his head and relaxes back into the sofa. "Plus, I'm sure this decibel level isn't conducive to the healthy development of TJ's hearing. Studies have shown that—"

"Really?" Jane stops poking around and turns to face her friend. "Come on Maur, sarcasm?" Then she motions to Angela to cut off the TV and throws up her arms in exasperation. "Where the hell does this plug in, anyway, Dr. Smartypants?"

Maura smiles innocently. "It doesn't plug in."

"Like hell, I've seen you use your iPod with this damn thing several times."

The doctor just continues to smile, winking at Frost as she takes another sip of wine.

Jane rolls her eyes and stomps over to her partner, throwing the device into his lap. "Make this work, while I go and take care of that." She tips her head towards the still grinning blond who is currently whispering conspiratorially with Frankie.

"Yes ma'am." Frost answers, holding up his casted arm to block Jane's jab.

"Don't call me that, Barold." The detective growls and stalks towards Maura, erasing the smirk from the her friend's face.

"And YOU," Jane bumps Maura with a hip and knocks her, squealing, from her roost onto Frankie, "You're supposed to have my back!"

"Oh for the love of– Janie!" Angela stands and hands TJ off to his mother, then walks to the couch to help the Maura get up without spilling her wine on herself or a flailing Frankie. "Maura, honey, you don't have to be her friend just because I live here."

"Really? Just—really? The both of you?" Jane frowns dramatically at first her mother then Maura and snags her iPod from Frost's raised hand. She turns her attention to him. "Will it work now?"

He nods, smirking. "What are we going to do? Play musical chairs?

Memories soften Jane's eyes as she pivots to face her best friend. "Well, it depends on whether or not Dr. Isles will permit us to move her furniture."

The detective, brown eyes full blown puppy dog, walks back to where Maura stands, leaning against the arm of the sofa. Maura cocks her head to the side and holds Jane's gaze expectantly. Jane wrinkles her brow in confusion.

"Janie! Manners!"

"God, Ma…" Jane clasps her hands together and makes a show of dropping to her knees. She's aware she must tread lightly with the royalty jokes. There's a fine line between what tickles Maura's decidedly odd funny bone and what triggers tears. Jane's not always sure on which side her comments will fall.

"Please, oh Queen? _Please_ can we move your furniture?" She sticks her tongue out as all the law enforcement members in the room use their phones to snap pictures of her begging favors.

Maura extends her index finger from her wineglass and taps Jane on the nose, launching into full lecture mode. "Please _may_ we…"

The detective rolls her eyes and gestures for the men to get up and move the couch as the doctor prattles on, oblivious to Jane's inattention, "I'm sure you _can_ , but you're supposed to be asking for permission, not the ability, to do something..."

"Thank you, Miss Manners." Jane cuts Maura off with a hand on her arm. "Since we _can,_ we already _did_." The doctor drops silent and Jane switches gears, worried that once again she's tread too hard on Maura's feelings. "You're gonna love this. I'll be making a fool of myself all night."

Jane pulls Maura back to where her mother and Lydia sit, walking backwards so she can keep Frankie and Tommy's attention, "Hey, remember staying at Nonna Bracco's when we were little and how she and Nonno would play old music and we would all dance after dinner?"

Tommy laughs and mock-punches Frankie on the shoulder, "Yeah, I remember." The youngest Rizzoli moves in front of his older brother and does his best imitation of their beloved grandfather. He bends a bit at the waist and points a crooked finger at Frankie, thickening his already pronounced Bostonese.

"Ol' Blue eyes, an yah namesake, young Frankie. Girls is always fallin allovah themselves when they heah him sing. I godda remind yah Nonna that singin' is great but dancin', that's where she fell in love. Sinatra himself couldna best me on the dance floah."

Tommy bumps fists with his grinning brother, everyone else in the room is clapping and laughing at the impromptu performance. Tommy bows at their applause and holds his hand out to his mother. Maura has a feeling that she is about to be surprised again at Rizzoli hidden talents. Angela smiles delightedly as her youngest spins her into his arms.

As if cued, Jane taps the iPod and brass and Sinatra pour from Maura's expensive sound system. Tommy and Angela whirl around the widened space and Maura is a bit intimidated by their effortless grace. Jane must sense her mild distress because Maura feels Jane touch her reassuringly on the forearm before she softly hip-checks her again. The blonde offers small smile in thanks. Jane leans down to whisper in Maura's ear.

"If you think Tommy's good, wait until Frankie goes. He was older so he remembers the lessons better. Nonno died when Tommy was ten, so Frankie's got three years of practice on him." Maura turns to question her friend about her own dancing skills and their noses bump. The doctor gasps and jerks back when she realizes that Jane hasn't moved away. She hears Jane's chuckle and her face burns with a blush so fierce she's forgotten what she wanted to ask in the first place. This line that they tiptoe jumbles her insides and while normally she'll flirt right back, she suddenly feels unsettled.

At the end of the song, Frost and Korsak start the whistling and cheering and there's another round of applause.

The next song is faster, a Dean Martin classic. Korsak takes Angela's hand from Tommy, who moves to pull Lydia out on the floor to teach her to mambo. Jane reaches her arms out to take her sleeping nephew and stares pointedly at Frankie, tipping her head in Maura's direction.

"Ask her!" Jane mouths behind the doctor's line of sight and sighs as Maura takes a step back and softly shakes her head as Frankie approaches. He gestures for her to take his hand and glances helplessly at Jane when the blond again refuses.

"Maur, go on. Frankie's a good teacher and the mambo is fun. I'm going to go lay TJ down at Ma's." She bumps her friend into Frankie for a second time tonight, offering a mischievous smile when Maura gives her an apprehensive frown. "Relax Talking Google, just tell my brother where the mambo originated while he teaches you to do it."

Maura brightens at the idea of a mini-lesson, both for herself and Frankie. He's always been much more appreciative of her frequent spouts of random information, or if not appreciative, he at least doesn't mock her for it.

"Come on." Frankie leads her out amongst the laughing and dancing. The blond is astonished that Korsak can mambo; he and Angela dance like contenders for some sort of award. Maura wonders if there is a trophy or ribbon, with the Rizzolis and their competitive streaks she wouldn't be surprised.

"Is there a prize?" Maura murmurs to Frankie, her hands on his shoulders as he palms both of her hips, pushing back and forth to the music. "This isn't the mambo, by the way. It's actually salsa. Instructors in New York decided that the real dance, which originated in Cuba, wasn't disciplined enough so they created regim—"

"A prize?" Frankie interrupts the stream of information with a confused look. Maura's years of formal dance instruction have given her an advantage over Lydia, who is stepping all over Tommy's toes and laughing. A little guidance and she and Frankie are giving the older couple a run for their money.

The doctor looks up into Frankie's baffled brown eyes, eyes that look so much like Jane's when Maura is being especially non-sequitur. She sighs and tries to clarify.

"You Rizzolis are always competing over something. I figured there would be a prize of some sort..."

Frankie still looks befuddled, but he hasn't lost a step. Distracted, he raises their clasped hands to spin her, and despite the fact she's a quick study, Maura isn't prepared for the shift in momentum. The five inch heels she's wearing aren't much of a help as she tries to catch her balance.

"Oh, OH..FRANKIE!" Maura shrieks, hoping that he'll have enough of a grasp to keep her from landing flat on her back. Her eyes squeeze shut and she sucks in a breath she is sure will be knocked from her body upon impact.

Strong fingers grab her wrist and a long arm is around her waist, and she is caught up against a bony hip. Concern swirls in familiar brown eyes that flick over her frame, checking for damage. Maura realizes with an unbidden thrill that Jane has her clutched close to help her stabilize on her towering shoes. Maura bites her lip and throws caution to the wind, slipping her arm up around Jane's shoulders. She throws a little wobble in for good measure.

"God, Frankie, I said teach her to mambo, not drop her on the floor." Sarcasm so heavy that even the doctor can discern it drips from the husky voice.

Frankie holds his hands up in surrender and shrugs sheepishly. Maura has to stifle a giggle at the expression on the middle Rizzoli's face. Her proximity to Jane, her relief at not falling, and that third glass of wine have left her feeling a bit tipsy, and she drops her head against the Jane's shoulder. Jane squeezes her slightly and tips her own dark head to rest for a moment against the Maura's.

"Dance with me Janie?" The glint in Frankie's eyes dares her to refuse. Jane shifts uncomfortably, stepping out from under Maura's arm. Maura struggles to hide the discontent that immediately kills her buzz.

Maura is an expert at masking emotions, but tonight her control isn't in top form. Last weekend had been a test of her ability to keep up appearances: first working with Hope in the field doing triage, then in the crumbling building terrified not only for Frost, TJ, and Tommy but also for Jane and herself. Furthermore, she still hasn't told Jane that she was going through with the kidney donation. She's too afraid of seeing her friend's disappointment no matter how ephemeral. Hiding information from Jane has made the entire week a roller coaster of ups and downs with Maura just trying to hang on.

"Hey – Maur?" The doctor blinks owlishly and Jane's concerned face is level with her own. "You alright?"

Maura notices the music has changed and that Frankie has stepped to the couch to joke with Frost. Jane's partner broke his arm in the building collapse, and the bent positioning of the cast made dancing awkward. His annoyance at his bystander-only role is telegraphed by his rhythmic tapping on the obnoxious kelly-green and clover-covered cast. Jane spent an afternoon with a pack of new black Sharpies decorating the cast to try to draw him from his desk-duty gloom with her unofficial Celtics embellishments.

"I'm fine." Maura tries her best to smile, the product tremulous at best, and Jane looks unconvinced and slightly guilty. "Go. Go and dance with Frankie. I'd like to see you both."

"Nah, I don't feel like it right now."

If Maura didn't know her better, she would have said that Jane was being shy. But she does know her and…well, one thing Jane Rizzoli isn't is shy. Maura frowns at the evasion, her eyes undoubtedly full of questions. A slight blush blooms across the detective's cheeks and she looks away from her friend to watch the two couples dance. The gesture strikes Maura as a bit odd, but so has everything about this week, plus she's never really been a great judge of odd anyway. Jane seems to snap out of it and pushes the doctor towards her middle brother again.

"Why don't you give Frankie another chance to demonstrate his talents?" Before Maura can protest, Jane calls over to the men who are both pointing at Tommy and Lydia and laughing. "Frankie, come whirl Maura around again? This time I'll confiscate her shoes."

The men bump fists, both sporting conspiratorial grins, and Frankie shakes his head. "Naw, Janie, I barely escaped that last debacle with my balls. I don't want to have to deal with you a second time." Frost cracks up, and they knuck-up again, high-5s impossible with the detective's cast. Jane arches an eyebrow threateningly, but her brother doesn't even flinch. She sighs and turns to see heartbreak all over Maura's face.

"I feel like you're trying to avoid me." The doctor comments softly, just barely able to be heard over the din of music and laughter. She feels something is amiss, but can't for the life of her figure out what it is. Their orbit is off, that constant circling that they do when they're together. Maura feels like she is on a collision course with something large and inevitable and she hasn't the skills to adjust her trajectory.

"No!" Jane exclaims as her hand slides up into her wild curls, tugging for a moment in frustration before she repeats herself, softer and less defensive. "No, no, no, I just thought…you know, that you would want to dance too." She seems baffled by Maura's swing in demeanor and this sudden tension between them.

Flustered brown eyes meet hazel and Maura is sure, now, that Jane is uncomfortable and that it has something to do with her. Maura feels her stomach clench and her throat tighten. She drops her eyes as the familiar burn of tears begins. She doesn't even know what she's so upset about: dinner was wonderful, plus she's surrounded by happy people and the best friend she's ever had.

"Hey…hey?! Are you crying?" Jane looks at her incredulously, her voice low enough that only Maura can hear. Long-fingered hands reach for Maura's shoulders, but she ducks under the embrace and walks, sniffling, into the kitchen. Frankie and Frost catcall at what they think is a commonplace tiff between the two women and Maura hopes it's enough to distract Jane and to give her a chance to get her bearings.

"Oh get bent, you two!"

The detective's husky voice carries over the music and teasing as she stomps from the living room to follow Maura's retreating form. The blonde dabs hastily at the tears that managed to escape, hoping to fool her friend and, once they've all gone home, deal with whatever existential crisis she is having, alone, with the rest of that bottle of Chianti. Jane pins her into the corner between stovetop and sink with just her dark gaze, long arms crossed expectantly. Their orbit may be off, but that uncanny ability to practically read one another's mind hasn't changed. Maura crumbles a bit under the detective's scrutiny.

The open floor plan seemed like a good idea when Maura bought this house, but now she wishes there were a partition, or a wall, or even a guarded drawbridge with a moat to protect her from having this conversation. She shakes her head at her friend, eyes pleading for a delay in questioning. Any of the crowd in the living room could walk back to the kitchen, hell they could just turn around and look and see the normally composed doctor on the verge of losing her shit.

"Janie!" Angela's voice cuts through Sinatra and both women flinch. "I haven't seen you out here yet. Your Nonno is rolling in his grave as this music plays and you stand around."

Jane frowns slightly, but doesn't take her eyes from Maura.

"I'll be in in a minute, Ma."

She steps toward Maura, just enough to lean in and be heard. "We need to talk, but I get it, another time. Why don't you hang back and I'll tell everyone you're not feeling well. Then go up to bed. You've been a bit off all week, so no one will question it." Jane tilts her head to meet Maura's eyes, "I'll straighten up and see everyone out."

Maura bites her lip to stop its wobbling and nods almost imperceptibly, fighting the compulsion to reach out for comfort. She wants to grab Jane's hand and lace their fingers together, suddenly desperate to recapture that moment where they stood in the middle of the street, chaos roaring around them, their hands clasped. She wants to ask Jane to stay with her tonight, to confess her decision about the donation and to get rid of this residual anxiety. Maura hates feeling out of control.

Jane walks over to the improvised dance floor and although Maura cannot hear her, she can tell from the gestures that Jane is exaggerating Maura's "condition." When Maura steps out of the kitchen to say her goodnights, Angela wraps her in a hug, kissing her on the forehead and patting her cheek as she pulls away. The rest of her company waves their goodbyes as she walks to the steps. Maura feels Jane's eyes on her as she climbs the stairs and she turns and offers her friend a hesitant but genuine smile. Jane winks at her and gestures that she's up next to dance. When Maura reaches the landing, she moves to lean against the wall and observe. Jane turns her attention to her brother as he leans down to rabbitpunch Frost on his good arm. Frankie holds his hand out to her and their mother unpauses the music and the two of them transform into people that Maura would never believe she knew. She is speechless.

They salsa and spin, movements so precise and perfect that Maura cannot fathom that they don't meet weekly to practice. The room is silent except for the music and footfalls on her floor. Unable to fight the compulsion, Maura closes her eyes and imagines herself in Jane's arms, moving across the hardwood in time with the beat. Just holding her friend's hand doesn't seem to be enough anymore, and Maura is floored by this sudden surge of neediness. Imagining is an indulgence she will no longer allow herself to have; she just cannot handle any more disappointment. Steeling herself against the longing brought on by the clapping and whistling below, she steps farther back into the shadows of the landing then turns and retreats to her bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: **Uh, I'm sorry all. So, this thing refuses to let me wrap it up in the planned 2 chapters. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Bear with me? I'm hoping just 1 more.****

Jane has managed to wrangle everyone out the door, agreeing to her party-pooperness just to get them all to leave. Something is wrong with Maura and it's obvious that only Jane noticed that her friend was barely holding herself together. Conversation has been strained between the two of them ever since they stood holding hands, surrounded by the fubar caused by the building collapse. Jane knows that the moment of serenity and connection they shared was transcendent and she is afraid it has irreparably harmed their dynamic.

Jane's stomach tugs at the memory as she drops some organic spinach and dandelion leaves for Bass, then wipes down the table and countertops, carefully putting everything back exactly in its arbitrarily assigned position. She's aware the doctor has a black belt in some sort of kung-fu-shui that dictates placement of spatulas and trivets, but damned if the detective's ever been able to figure it out. She knows Maura will wake up tomorrow and move everything a fraction of an inch this way or that before being able to start her roman-orgy coffee machine. Jane shakes her head, a small smile tugging the corners of her mouth, as she tries to imagine doing _anything_ before coffee. She tosses the damp cloth into the sink, knowing perfectly well it annoys the hell out of Maura, just so she'll get a huffy text message after the rearranging of kitchenware.

She recognizes that lately she teases Maura more, makes more little jokes at Maura's expense, engaging in elementary school pigtail-pulling flirtation. Initially Jane told herself it was simply her way of showing affection, but she wonders if now, it's a bit more than that. Her thoughts keep going back to Maura's hand in hers, and how the tentative gesture had immediately calmed the turbulent thoughts plaguing her. Jane wants that tranquility again, that instant serenity that seems to only exist when Maura is near, or better, touching her. She sighs, knowing that her own insomnia is driving her to crazy ideas and assumptions. She'll go wish Maura a good night, then head home and pray for unconsciousness while nursing a few beers in front of whatever sporting event is on this late.

Moonlight pours in the large kitchen windows; the house is serene, quite a drastic difference from just thirty minutes ago. Jane hopes that Maura has been able to relax enough to fall asleep. She hates to think her friend is stressed enough to be suffering from sleep deprivation yet not confiding in her as Maura always has done. The doctor's discovery about the ball bearings pretty much clinched the case against the councilman and his wife. Jane figures she can use the victory as an excuse to buy them both another day at a spa, or even better, tickets to a Sox game. Just some good old-fashioned Jane & Maura time.

The door to the master bedroom is cracked open, a sliver of pale light spilling out into the hall. Jane frowns at the wiggly part in her stomach that is hoping Maura may still be awake and wanting to talk. Maura needs the sleep; Jane should just go home, but she cannot stop her fingers from lightly tapping on the heavy oak door. She cannot stop herself from slowly pushing it open enough to peep her head in, and seeing Maura curled under the blankets, from easing her thin frame through the small gap between door and jamb. While she doesn't understand the compulsion, Jane is going to roll with it. She reasons that it's much easier to beg forgiveness than to ask for permission, and all she knows right now is that she's compelled to check on a grown-ass woman who doesn't need to be checked on.

Maura is curled towards the door, both arms bent at the elbows and hands tucked up under her head. Jane frowns at the doctor's furrowed brow; Maura may be asleep, but it surely isn't restful. She tiptoes over and sits on the edge, very careful not to jostle the bed. Overcome with a tenderness that exists only for children, Jo Friday, and Maura, Jane tucks a few wayward blond curls behind her ear then traces a finger, whisper-soft, along the gentle curve of her jaw.

Maura's brow creases further and she mumbles something unintelligible, settling herself deeper into the fluffy pillows. Jane moves her hand to Maura's forehead, using her thumb to smooth the tension residing there. Somewhere in her head there is a niggling voice telling her that she is not behaving in a manner reserved for friends, not even best ones. Of course the two women are assuredly more physical in their friendship, but what she is doing now is far more intimate than their typical line-blurring affection.

"Stop it."

Maura's voice is thick with sleep and laced with minor irritation. Without opening her eyes, she pulls a hand from under her pillow and captures Jane's, tucking them both under her chin. Jane smiles indulgently, although the doctor isn't looking.

"Maur, honey, everyone left. I fed your turtle," Jane hesitates, waiting for the correction. When it doesn't come she realizes her friend is sleeping again . She lowers her voice to a husky whisper, "I'm gonna go now."

Jane attempts to pull her hand away, but Maura whimpers and frowns, tightening her hold.

"Hey, sweetie, I need my hand to drive." Despite needing to wake Maura, Jane is still whispering, "Can't leave it here with you. It would leave a mess on the sheets. Reddish-brown stains everywhere." She tugs again, futilely, as Maura continues to hold fast. "Maura, come on, I don't want to hurt – "

"No. Stay." It is as close to whining as Jane has ever heard. She tries again to extricate herself, convinced that a sleeping Maura doesn't really know what's best. Another whimper, this one accompanied by sleepy green eyes. "Please."

A whiney Maura Isles, Jane thinks she could deny, but a pleading Maura Isles…impossible. She folds faster than Korsak at a department poker night.

"Alright. Fine. Gimme my hand so I can change and brush my teeth."

Jane's hand is relinquished with a reluctant sigh and she moves about silently, collecting an oversized BPD shirt from a drawer in Maura's dresser. The doctor has once again slipped back into slumber, so Jane tiptoes out to the guest room to finish getting ready for bed. Night-shirted and teeth brushed, the detective hesitates in the doorway to the guestroom's bathroom. She's unsure as to Maura's request: stay in the house, or stay in the bed…with her? Jane hates uncertainty, and this week has been filled with unacknowledged tension and an uncharacteristically distracted Maura.

"So many un's make Janie go crazy." The detective softly singsongs with a smirk as she turns down the guest bed.

If Jane goes back to the master bedroom she'd wake up Maura, and Maura needs to sleep. This new hollow feeling in the pit of Jane's stomach – irrelevant. Whatever is bothering Maura can be discussed during brunch tomorrow. The brunette curls onto her side, pulling the two spare pillows into her arms. In that brief moment between sleep and wakefulness, as Jane buries her face into the sweet-smelling softness, she imagines Maura cuddled against her.

* * *

Something is wrong. Unease works better than any alarm clock, and it yanks Jane from an unusually sound sleep into a state of hyper-awareness. Wide eyes stare up at the ceiling as she tries sort out the rush of adrenaline before it blossoms into panic. She is at Maura's house, in Maura's guestroom with her arms wrapped around the spare pillows she pulled onto her chest in her sleep. She hears nothing but the occasional thump-scrape of Bass as he moves across the floor below her.

Jane looks to the window and sees a darkened sky edged with violet. Her circadian rhythm has never followed the rising of the sun before, and the detective has no reason to think it has started now. She sighs and pushes the pillows and duvet off of her. The floor is cold under her feet and goosebumps bloom across her bare thighs and arms in the morning chill. A quick trip to the kitchen will allow her to get a drink, check on Maura, and walk off this anxiety all at the same time.

"Stupid stress." Jane growls under her breath, irritated by whatever dragged her from the land of Nod.

Bare feet pad silently down the hall to stop in front of Maura's closed door. Jane rests her hand on the knob, but hesitates, realizing she'd more likely than not wake up her friend. Maura needs the sleep and although Jane, like misery, loves company, she sees no reason to have the blond suffer this sunrise with her.

"Coffee coffee coffee." The brunette mutters quietly to herself as she tiptoes down the stairs, long fingers tracing along the cool wood of the banister. Her head jerks up at a soft gasp and sniff; Maura turns away from Jane's surprised stare, hastily wiping her face.

"Maur-"

"I didn't realize you were still here-"

Jane's eyes flick to the locked door and unarmed alarm as she takes the last few stairs two at a time. She crosses the floor quickly, all the while looking for something amiss. Maura's back is still to Jane, her posture droopy. The brunette would bet her whole paycheck that Maura is spinning the ring on her left hand. Jane has noticed Maura has taken to sleeping with the bauble on, almost like a security blanket, her need to self-soothe is so great. Her dark brows draw together, guilt tugging along her mouth at the realization that her friend is wound so tightly that even her ritualistic evening routines and meditations can't calm her.

"Hey, what happened? Bad dream? Hives from that headache fib?" Jane's voice is morning-rough, cracking midway through, and she clears her throat to try again. Maura shakes her head and Jane prepares for the doctor's evasive maneuvers.

"I woke up and I came down here." Maura still hasn't turned, but she's straightened her shoulders. "I wasn't sure if Bass had eaten."

Jane snorts before she can stop it; this deflection is one of Maura's worst and further evidence of the doctor's emotional strain. She reaches out to put her hands on her friend's upper arms, rubbing softly with her thumbs. Maura stiffens at the touch, readying herself for more questions. The trick, Jane knows, is to question in a manner that cannot be deflected. Maura's inability to lie has made her a master of truth-twisting and omission, the perfect foil for Jane's instinctual interrogating.

"Honey, it is 4:00 in the morning. Even if you woke up and fed Bass, what stopped you from going back to bed?" Jane makes sure her voice holds no condescension, only empathy. Maura holds herself stiff – distant – for just a moment and then she crumbles, chin dropping to chest as her hands rise to cover her face.

Jane turns Maura around and pulls her trembling friend into her arms, tucking Maura's covered face into the crook of her neck. They stand, swaying gently, as Maura's stifled sniffing devolves into sobs. Jane murmurs nonsensically, spilling sweeties and honeys and babys into the blonde's ear; one hand stroking through long golden hair while the other holds Maura tightly against her.

Jane is pulled in so many different directions: the strongest is to fix _it_ , to crush whatever is hurting Maura so much that all her carefully guarded composure is lost. Jane fights the urge to demand exactly what she can do to take away this heart-rending sorrow because her gut tells her Maura _needs_ this. At some point, something has to give. The last time Maura was this pressured and Jane tried resolving everything, they very nearly quit each other. So they sway and rock, Jane pressing soft kisses to Maura's temple between whispers, and finally the sobs melt into hitching breaths and sighs.

"I'm s-s-sorry." Maura tries to pull away, palms scrubbing at her tear stained cheeks. Jane only tightens her hold, still moving slowly from side to side. She toys with a blond curl, threading and weaving the silky strand between her fingers, before nuzzling her cheek against Maura's. She knows this contact is also crossing the friendship line, but she can't seem to stop. Anything to get Maura talking. Jane doesn't respond to the apology, she knows sometimes Maura is compelled to fill silence with a stream of consciousness and Jane needs to know what sparked this uncharacteristic emotional outburst.

"I don't know what's wrong with me." Maura's voice is soft and lost, and Jane's heart twists at the hint of despair. "I can't seem to reach homeostasis despite my attempts at meditation, controlled breathing, and exercise."

Jane hums sympathetically in response, her hand moving up to cradle the back of Maura's head, long fingers massaging in a manner she hopes is soothing. Maura's breathing still catches on the spaces where sobs were, but she has relaxed into Jane's embrace, taking the offered comfort.

"I thought you left." Maura's forehead rests against Jane's shoulder and the whisper drops between them. "It _was_ a nightmare, and I woke up, and you weren't with me. You said you'd stay. I needed you."

Jane stops swaying. She feels that flash of adrenaline again: that stomach-clenching, heart pounding, pre-panic fluttering in her chest. She knows this is a conversation that Maura needs to have, that they _both_ need to have, but that doesn't make it any easier. Before she can stop herself she slips into her favorite river in Egypt and intentionally plays the fool.

"I did stay. I'm here, aren't I?"

Maura sighs and doesn't bother to answer. She is slowly coming back into her body, the arms that loosely circle Jane's waist pull up and away and she raises her head from its intimate position. Jane feels Maura retreating, and she curses her own cowardice. She can, with a dislocated shoulder, tackle a 250 pound drug addict. She can, with zip-tied wrists, headbutt a deranged prison guard to save Maura and kill her own personal living nightmare. Jane can, with a heart crippled by terror, talk down a psychopath before he takes the only person, besides her family, that Jane has ever loved. She cannot let this opportunity slip from her because of her fear.

"Maura." Jane manages to catch ahold of the doctor's hands as she pulls away. "I wasn't sure…"

Then she sees it: the sadness, the exhaustion, but above all, the love in Maura's eyes as they meet her own. The detective recognizes that this is how Maura always looks at her – minus the sadness and maybe with a little less exhaustion.

"I wasn't sure you meant for me to stay with you…like in your bed with you." She squeezes Maura's hands, "I should have, I mean, with the way you held my hand hostage, but I'm an idiot…"

Maura smiles slightly, but it's more a regret than benediction. She's rebuilding the walls that protect her, well three of them anyway. Jane became the fourth wall when she held Maura's hands just like she is now. She took Maura's confession of her neglectful childhood and since then, Jane has become more than just a friend and confidant. She's as essential to the doctor as air, food, and water. Maura has replaced Belongingness and Love on Maslow's Hierarchy with Jane. Maura doesn't want simply to belong; she wants to belong _to_ Jane. She wants Jane to belong to _her_.

Jane's stomach sinks as she sees Maura school her face into Dr. Isles. The brunette knows a talk needs to happen, but she needs mediation, something to translate the emotions in her heart into words. She communicates better through movement than speech, so if she can just get moving, the words will come.

"Here." Jane pulls the blonde towards the middle of the living room and gives her hands another squeeze before letting them go. "I know it's too early, and we haven't had any coffee, but this should wake us up a bit."

Maura tilts her head, a small, confused smile playing across her lips as her hands slowly return to her sides. Jane moves to grab the stereo remote from the coffee table, and then pushes the table against the couch to leave more room for movement. She attempts to calm her stuttering heart with some Jane-snark. "Bonus, you don't have those ridiculous shoes on, so I don't have to worry about you falling on your head."

The doctor looks baffled. "Are we going to dance? It _is_ four in the morning, as you so kindly pointed out before. I'm sure we could both use another hour or two of sleep." She trails off as she realizes the detective is thumbing through her iPod looking for a song.

"We'll have plenty of time to sleep when we're dead, Maur." Jane taps at the small screen impatiently and a slow, sultry piano pours from the speakers. This is no salsa or tango, Maura realizes. Jane is telling her something here that that raspy voice may not be able to express. She bites her lip and takes the proffered hand, letting Jane slip an arm around her waist and tug her closer.

"This song makes me think of you." Maura's eyes drift closed as Jane's lips brush against her ear. "The first time I heard it was right after Rockford…and," Jane sucks in a deep breath and Maura can feel her tremble. "I immediately bought it. I didn't know why the song spoke to me at the time, just that it did." There is no turning back now, Jane realizes, her secret will be out as soon as Maura hears the lyrics. Her stomach flip flops as she pulls Maura along with her much less smoothly than she would like. She throws out a nervous disclaimer. "I don't really know how to lead, so you're going to have to bear with me."

Maura doesn't answer, she just slides her hand from Jane's shoulder to wind her fingers in the soft curls at the nape of Jane's neck. Eyes still closed, she rests her head lightly against Jane's so that she can feel the brunette's breath puff against her ear and she relaxes, surrendering control over their movement entirely to Jane. And then, as the singer begins, she feels Jane's lips move in sync, a whispering duet with both singer and detective pouring their hearts into the words.

_Strange dear, but true dear_  
When I'm close to you, dear  
The stars fill the sky  
So in love with you am I. 

Maura gasps and tries to pull back, but Jane tightens the arm around Maura's waist and whirls them into a turn, keeping her lips pressed close to the shell of Maura's ear. "Just listen." She continues to softly sing along, the singer's smoky alto easily within her own range.

_In love with the night, mysterious._  
The night when you first were there.  
In love with my joy, delirious,  
When I thought that you might care. 

She feels Maura melt into her until they are pressed together so tightly they move as one. Jane's heart is full; it no longer flutters madly with the possibility of rejection. She dances Maura over to the couch, singing the closing lines of the song as she sways with the blond in her arms.

 _I'm yours, till I die_  
So in love, so in love  
So in love with you, my love...am I.

She leans back and rests her forehead against Maura's, her smile reflected back in watery green-gold eyes. She raises one long index finger and presses it gently into the dimple on Maura's left cheek, then she chuckles. She watches hazel eyes dilate at the throaty rumble and the dimple under her finger disappears as Maura sucks her lower lip in between her teeth.

"I've been waiting almost four years to do that."

Maura's smile is wobbly and she chokes back a laugh. She takes Jane's hand from her face and kisses the scarred palm before lacing their fingers together. "Can we sit?"

Jane can feel Maura's hand tremble against her own, so she squeezes her fingers and tugs her down to the couch. Maura takes a deep breath, her eyes resting on their clasped hands.

"I haven't been feeling like myself lately." She glances up to see Jane smiling encouragingly so she continues, "And I think it's because I have a few things that I need to tell you." When the words get stuck in her throat, Jane leans forward presses a chaste kiss on her cheek.

"This sounds like a coffee conversation. Why don't you go get that fuzzy blanket you keep on your bed and I'll go make you the best cup of instant coffee you've ever had." Maura looks at her, aghast, until Jane winks and waves her off to her room. As Maura goes to fetch the microfleece blanket Jane is so fond of, she finds herself feeling more and more confident about telling Jane about the donation. The other woman has pretty much professed her love. Maura draws strength from the memory of Jane's arms around her, filling her with the serenity that only Jane brings. She brings the blanket back to the living area where she throws it on the couch so she can rescue Jane from the coffee maker. Maura wants to start the day with a clean conscience and kisses, and without coffee it'll never happen.


	3. Chapter 3

s§s

This inner sense of peace is, ironically, unsettling. Without the distractions of butterflies in her stomach and heavy denial on her tongue, Jane's mind jumps between memories and fantasies at a frenetic pace. She did it. And while she expected that particular sense of smug satisfaction that always followed whatever petty sins she offered up to her priest during confession, this vibrant euphoria is unanticipated. She tries to keep it together, but the adrenaline flooding her body makes her hands shake.

"Oh fuck me. No, Jo, don't eat that." Jane wags a bare foot at the dog who's trying to supplement her kibble with the coffee grounds spilled from the heaping scoop. Unsteady on one foot, and waving the other, she groans when the rest of the mound on the scoop tumbles onto the countertop. "Jo, come on! Just let me finish making this and I'll fill your bowl like I did the scoop."

"To overflowing?" Jane whirls around at Maura's quiet question. She can't help but grin at the knowing look Maura levels at her as she comes around the island, grimacing as the strewn coffee grounds stick to the bottoms of her bare feet. "Oh Jane, on the floor too?"

The messy nest of curls bobs as she shrugs sheepishly and turns around back to Maura's fancy machine, tamping what's left of the first scoop and reaching for the grinder to add more. "Do you need help?" Maura offers hopefully, rubbing the sole of one foot against her bare calf, torn between retrieving a broom to sweep up the grit and pushing Jane aside to hurry along the coffee-making process. Jane only shakes her head so Maura opts for the broom, first stooping down to pick up the raggedy terrier in order to stop her from licking up any more of the spill. "You know, if you'd have just fed her first she would have been sufficiently distracted."

Jane locks the handle of the portafilter into place with a self-satisfied grunt and pushes the button to start the brew. "I've been sufficiently distracted enough for the both of us." She drawls, arching an eyebrow to punctuate an unquestionably mischievous smirk. Maura turns at the tone, broom in one hand, Jo in the other and as Jane's eyes hold her own, she feels herself blush.

"I can't imagine why. You have nothing left to bare. I'd think that our," Maura hesitates, uncharacteristically searching for words to describe the dance they shared that proved more profound than any conversation. Jane's smirk melts into a soft smile as she watches Maura open and close her mouth then look at her with wide eyes.

"Our dance?" Jane winks and moves to take Jo from under the blond's arm, staying close enough that Maura's beautifully flushed face tilts up to maintain eye contact. "You're right, my conscience is wonderfully light. I'm not even going to touch that "bare" comment. But that's not what's distracting me." Jane lets her eyes drop to Maura's lips then flick back up to capture green-gold again. Maura's knuckles whiten on the broom handle and her eyes flutter closed then open again in the slowest blink Jane has ever seen. She wants to run her finger across the perfect arch of Maura's lips, she wants Maura to smile so she can again press her finger into the dip of dimple, she wants to follow her fingers with her lips and taste the happy curve at the corner of Maura's mouth. "God, I want to kiss you."

Maura's eyes droop closed at the rumbled confession, but just before she leans in and invites Jane to indulge herself, she shakes her head. "Wait." She brings her hand up to rest against Jane's sternum, the touch intimate but still separating. She hopes Jane sees her hesitation as simply that. When her eyes open, Jane is looking at her with a winsome smile, the desire Maura saw earlier is gently banked and smoldering. "I want to talk to you first."

"First? So the kissing is still on the table?" Jane's voice is mischief and the way she captures Maura's hand and presses each of Maura's fingertips to her lips makes the blond regret her original decision. "Maura?" When she hears her name she realizes her eyes are closed again and she savors the movement of Jane's lips on her finger.

"Yes?"

"Coffee's finished."

"Yes?"

Lips curl against her fingertips, and Maura's own draw up in response. Jane releases her hand and she opens her eyes just in time to see Jane's finger come towards her face and press affectionately into the divet in her cheek.

"Yes. So, let's get going with this talk so we can move on to phase two." Jane moves to pull their cups from under the machine and begins to doctor them according to their individual tastes: her own poured into a larger cup and basically turned into the base for coffee ice cream, Maura's just touched with soy milk and exactly one half teaspoon of stevia sweetener.

Maura takes her cup and offers the brunette a small nervous smile that Jane, in turn, tries to ease with a hand against the small of Maura's back, rubbing soft circles all the way to the couch. Then she sets her own coffee down on the table, still pushed back from their dancing, and sits down only to open her arms so Maura will sit against her. Now that she's had Maura in her arms, she doesn't ever want her anywhere else.

"Ok, spill." Maura shifts against her, and Jane can feel the apprehension humming through Maura's body . Jane tightens her arms a moment and presses her lips into the wispy hair behind Maura's ear. "Sweetheart, what are you so worried about?"

"I told Hope yes." Maura shoves the words out as if the force could push their significance from the room. She ducks her head and moves to pull away afraid that Jane's certain displeasure and disappointment will crush whatever is emerging between them.

Jane frowns at Maura's tight shoulders and stiff spine, but instinct tells her that despite the posture, Maura wants comfort. There are a thousand things that her friend could have said "yes" to, and Jane is unsure which would have Maura this unsettled.

"Maur?" Jane slips one arm around the blonde's waist and tugs her back, burying her nose into the hair at the nape of Maura's neck. With her free hand she gently strokes Maura's arm, silently reveling in the soft skin under her fingers. "Yes…to what?"

"I know I shouldn't have, with how she's treated me –how they've both treated me." She hitches a breath and leans against Jane's embrace, mistaking Jane's confused tone with disapproval. When Jane doesn't let go, Maura finally turns and Jane can see the dread that Maura's hiding behind her determined tone. "But Cailin shouldn't die because of pettiness, I took an oath. I know you don't approve, and there's nothing more I want than this _us_ , but I have to-"

"Hey! Hey, no. No. Stop." Wild curls fly with the emphatic shaking of her head. Just when she thinks she understands Maura... Jane moves to cup freckled cheeks in her hands, her thumbs brushing the hint of shadow under earnest eyes. "I don't approve of their behavior towards you, and there's no excuse for the way Hope acted. But what you're choosing, Maura, is so selfless and loving and it is a reflection of the person that I've completely fallen for and pined after these couple of years. I will support _any_ decision you make as long as it doesn't put you in danger."

Maura's hands come up to cover hers, entwining their fingers and pulling them into her lap. Jane can see the lifted weight in Maura's loosened posture, but there's still something there. "Out with it, come on. Despite my beautiful mind, I can't just read what's going on in that big ole' brain." She quirks a smile in Maura's direction, both for comfort and encouragement.

"There is something else," Maura hesitates and squeezes Jane's hands before rushing to finish her thought, "I want this _us;_ I want things to change between us, but yet I don't. I'm afraid of what _us_ means for our friendship. I've never had a best friend before. What if we have a problem? We've always gone to each other with dating problems or intimacy issues – "

Jane screws up her face in distaste as she cuts Maura off. "No, not _we_. _You_ came to me to discuss intimacy issues and usually while baseball or hockey was on."

"See? This is what I'm talking about! We are almost forty year old women, Jane, we should be able to talk about these things without you going into a blind panic. I need to talk about things that make you uncomfortable because I never know if I'm doing things the right way. You're supposed to be able to do that with their best friend, to talk about anything. If you and I are _together_ , who am I going to ask those things?"

Jane can only stare, dopey smile plastered across her face as she continues to stumble deeper in love with the woman in front of her. "Just because we're together doesn't mean we can't be best friends. I would hope you're going to ask _me_ those things." She shakes her head at the doubtful look Maura is trying to hide. "And you're not going to let me get away with dodging the questions. I know I'm not as comfortable as you are discussing icky stuff, but I want to make you happy. That makes me happy."

A hint of uncertainty still lingers, fleeting shadows in Maura's eyes. Jane leans closer and rests her forehead on Maura's shoulder a moment before she chuckles and turns her face to snuffle against Maura's neck. The blond bites back a squeal as she jerks away, eyes bright and clear of the previous doubt. Jane smirks and leans in again, the grin widening at the quiver of Maura's body, tense in anticipation of words whispered against skin.

"I promise I'll try my best not to cringe when you say things like _arousal_ ," Jane is close enough now that, with each word, her lips brush against the sensitive spot beneath Maura's ear, "or _copulation_ , or _coitus_ …" Jane finishes with a nip at Maura's earlobe that leaves the other woman gasping. When she sits back up, innocently blinking at Maura's flushed face, she can't stop the smile that gives her scheme away. "Feeling better, doctor?"

Maura clears her throat and makes an effort to roll her eyes, but the fact is she's practically buoyant now that she's shared her worries with Jane. And Jane had listened without snarking or snapping or getting defensive. When Jane puts her hand up, index finger extended, Maura immediately smiles and Jane presses the pad of her finger to her cheek.

"I'm not perfect Maur, which I know, of all people, you know." They're holding hands again, and Jane's gone from flirty to serious in a heartbeat, "and I'm sure I'm going to fuck this up somehow, but I've been waiting for you for so long that...I –"

Her lips are so soft and sweet that they both sigh. Jane's thunder has been stolen but she couldn't care less as long as only Maura is doing the stealing. The kiss is a blink and an eternity at once and when it's over they sit, foreheads pressed together, smiling at one another though their eyes are closed.

"I want to do that again. Often. Forever."

Maura can only nod and laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo sorry. This has been posted forever at FFN. I forgot to cross post. Thank you so much to all of you who read and leave kudos and comments. It means the world. ♥


End file.
